


Christmas Future

by alynwa



Series: Christmases Past, Present and Future [3]
Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for Picfic Tuesday on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Future

_ _

_St. Thomas, USVI, Christmas Day, 2012_

Napoleon Solo’s eyes opened and he focused on the magnificent view from the living room of Fantasia, the house on the East End that he had rented for Christmas week that sits atop a mountain with a 360 degree view of its surroundings.  A quick glance around told him he was alone in the room.  _I must have fallen asleep again._ He stretched to get some of the kinks out of his back and slowly stood.  It took a few steps for him to work some more kinks out of his body.  _I’m truly shocked and happy to be eighty, but being old sucks.  I swear that I can feel every mission we ever went on in my knees and hands._

He smiled at that thought as he went down the six steps into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.  He looked at his watch, sighed and then reached for his bottles of medication that were on the counter.  He placed each pill or capsule into his left palm and then tossed them into his mouth and washed them down his throat.  “I remember a time when we practically had to be held down before we would swallow a pill.”  At the sound of the familiar and beloved voice, Napoleon turned around to see the man he still thought of as his partner standing in the foyer dressed very uncharacteristically in long swimming trunks and flip flops with a towel draped around his neck.

“Hey.  I thought I was alone.”

“ _We_ are alone.  The grandchildren wanted to go to Coral World so our wives took them and our children are over on St. John shopping and, no doubt, bar hopping.  You were sleeping so peacefully they didn’t have the heart to wake you.  I was just about to go have a lie about next to the pool.  Join me.”

“I will, but first I have something for you.  Go up to the living room, I’ll be right there.”

The Russian nodded and grabbed the banister to begin the short trek up the stairs.  His left knee had a nasty habit of giving out at the most inopportune moments and he had no intention of falling on the stairs and ruining their families’ vacation.  _Families,_ he mused.  _We not only survived the field, we each found women to love and marry and to be the mother of our children.  Just when I had made up my mind that my only family would be_ Napoleon, _everything changed.  For both of us and for the better._ He jumped when he realized he had been so distracted by his thoughts that Napoleon had climbed the stairs and was now standing next to him. 

“Sorry about that,” Napoleon said as he sat down.  He had changed into bathing attire similar to what Illya was wearing except he wore a light shirt known as a _guayabera_ unbuttoned at the neck.  He reached into a pocket with a well manicured and surprisingly still youngish looking hand and pulled out a small gold box tied with gold ribbon.  He held it out to Illya.  “For you.”

Illya stared.  “I thought we opened all of our presents this morning.  What’s that?”

Napoleon grinned and thought, _It’s still odd to me to hear him using contractions; it only took him about twenty years._ “This is something I wanted to give you when it was just the two of us.”

“Really?”  Illya plucked his gift from Napoleon’s hand and lifted off the top.  Inside, nestled in white cotton, was a gold medallion with the same figure on both sides.  The initials NRS were on one side and INK the other. 

“That is St. Francis of Assisi,” Napoleon explained, “Many people consider him the Patron Saint of Friendship in addition to the Patron Saint of Animals.  Do you remember our first Christmas together, Partner Mine?”

Chuckling, Illya replied, “Absolutely, I had never seen so much food for just two people.  I almost ate myself into a coma!  I fell asleep in your recliner and you had to wake me up to go to bed.”

Nodding, Napoleon added, “I asked you if you had had pleasant dreams and you said no, but you didn’t tell me what it was.”

“I was dreaming about my time in the State School.  Remember our _second_ Christmas as partners?”

Napoleon laughed out loud.  “I was so angry at you!  But, I admit, after I calmed down, it all worked out.  I got Aunt Amy a gift she treasured until the day she died and we celebrated Christmas in Paris and then had another one in New York.  Things _always_ worked out for us.  That is why I got you, _us_ , these medallions.”  He showed that he was wearing an identical medal around his neck.  “You are the best friend I have ever had.  _Ever._   I don’t think, in fact, I _know_ I would not have lived this long if it weren’t for you.  I would never have married, fathered children…without you.  I know you know, but I wanted to tell you again…”  He swallowed hard as emotion threatened to choke him.  “I love you, Illya, I love you and I am so glad we are best friends.”

Illya sat quietly listening as he watched the man he considered a brother declare his friendship and love for him.  His own eyes filled and he allowed the tears to fall.  “One of the privileges of reaching this age is that we can show our tears without shame.”  He reached over and pulled Napoleon to him in a hug.  He kissed Napoleon’s cheek and said, “I love you, too, Napoleon.  Very much so.”  He leaned back and put his gift around his neck.  “St. Francis once said ‘In friendship learn faith.’  That is so appropriate because I had no faith when I arrived in America.  I have it now and that is because I learned it through our friendship.  Without that faith, I would never have developed trust and without trust I wouldn’t have had you or my family.  I still am not completely sure there is an afterlife, but if there is, if the fates are kind, you will be in mine.”

The two old friends sat quietly on the couch lost in their own thoughts for several minutes.  Illya was the first to break the silence.  Clearing his throat he said, “Come on, Old Man, let’s sit next to the pool.  If everyone comes back and sees us sitting here all teary – eyed, we’ll have to explain ourselves and I prefer to keep this moment between us.”

Smiling, Napoleon stood with some difficulty and then held out his hand to help Illya to stand.  “A secret?  Once a spy, always a spy.”

As they went outside Illya replied, “Of course.” 

 


End file.
